Friday, January 20, 2012

lyrics to some emo song.....

Some one wise once told me that "people will only treat you the way that you let them." I know it is kind of a backwards version of "do unto others" or whatever, but it is true. There were some pretty crappy relationships that I have been in over the course of my lifetime. I had this one boyfriend that I just knew I was going to marry. He was really cool and was really good looking (until he stopped bathing... which is a totally different story in itself). I loved his family. I mean loved them. His parents were so nice to me and I got along great with his sister. I may have liked them more than I liked him, but he was apart of the package I guess. He was usually nice to me and he was there for me when I was going through an extremely hard time. He was an emotional backboard when I had no one. Unfortunately, looking back, I have begun to realize that he was part of the reason why I had no one but him. He demanded all of my time and made me feel guilty when I wanted to hang out with my friends. Totally not cool. We began to fight a lot. I mean a lot. Atomic bomb style. Either way, he cheated on me with his raunchy ass ex-girlfriend and I felt like I had to stay with him because I was indebted to him for being there for me when I was hurting. That wasn't right. And that girl was SUCH a bitch. She faked a pregnancy scare 4 days after they did it. I mean, come on. Seriously?  

We stayed together for like a month afterward and I believed that it was going to work. Granted, I always thought about them together and I brought it up and hung it over his head the rest of out relationship (but don't feel bad for him, he was still pretty rude to me too...) But, I remember the time that I realized that I didn't need to put up with his crap anymore. Some people were in awe of how great of a person I was because I was able to forgive him. One of my friends at the time told me that she really admired me because I was "such a good and forgiving person." Part of me really believed that I was just "such a good and forgiving person." Even though every time she said that to me I would throw up in my mouth a little bit.

During all this crap my best friend and I were kind of going through a "falling out." Which not to place blame on anyone, but it was TOTALLY his fault (and partly mine I guess for choosing him ALL the time.) Anyway, we had just begun spending time together again and she said that she was just surprised that I decided to stay with him because she "had never known me to take shit from anyone." I am not going to lie that sort of struck something in me. All those people that thought that I was "such a forgiving person" had no idea that I hadn't forgiven him. I just stopped fighting for myself. I gave up. I let him break me and take all the pieces for himself. Needless to say, those people that thought that I was totally awesome didn't think that I was awesome after I dumped his ass.

I don't necessarily believe that love is blind. I believe that when you have love, it colors the world and that other person to you. You still see what they have done to you, but you find excuses or reasons why it is ok for them to walk all over you.

I don't want anyone to think that I still have feelings for this moronic assface that I am writing about. That ship sailed many years ago. I just hope someone can learn from my mistakes. And, I just want to reiterate something... People will only treat you the way you let them. People will only treat you the way you let them.

People will only treat you the way you let them.

People will only treat you the way you let them. Got it? Good.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

wowzas.

This is going to be short and to the point...

I just read in this group that I am in that the maternity home that I was adopted out of used to change the birthdays of some of the babies that were born there... to make it harder for them to find their birth parents later in life.

What if my birthday really isn't my birthday?

AAAND in the 60s they would SELL the babies to the highest bidder.... good thing I wasn't born in the 60s

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Someday...

There are days when I hardly think of her. There are days when I never think of her at all. Then there are days when I am completely consumed with wonder and confusion. Today is one of those days. Today, instead of working on my piles of paperwork that continues to grow, I find myself checking all of these random websites that have post after post of someone begging to find someone else. Someone that they once knew even if it was for just a short time. 

I have known my whole life that I was adopted--"special" as my mother called it. She told me since I was a small child that I was carried in another lady's tummy. My mom told me that she chose me. It always made me feel good about myself. In fact, I used to say to my brother-- "mom was STUCK with you, but she CHOSE me." It was a fight he couldn't win. I was special and he wasn't. At least in my mind. 

It wasn't until I got older that I realized there actually was someone else out in the world who could have been my mother. Before I go any further I want to make something clear... I know that the Lord blessed me greatly by putting me in a home with a woman who cares for me more than anything in the world. She has always been good to me and done everything that she could for me, and I love her...she IS my mother.

But there has always been this spot on my heart. It is more like a shadow, if you will. A spot that literally aches every now and then.

I don't really know what I would hope to find if I ever searched for her. I don't know that I would really want a relationship. I might. More than anything I know that I just want closure. I want to know the reason she did it. I want to know what it was like to give up a baby. I want to know if she thinks about me like I think about her. I want to know if she has any other children. I just want to know what she looks like, for crying out loud. 

As the years go by, I have more trouble coming up with reasons why I shouldn't search for her. But there is always one reason I keep coming back to. That reason is the woman who raised me. I feel like she deserves to always be my mother. And I think part of me is afraid that if I do find her, my attention would be divided. I don't want that for her. She doesn't deserve that. 

Maybe someday I will have the courage.